


The Necessity for Apologies

by butmicoooool



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Getting Together, M/M, mostly crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 16:30:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6431857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butmicoooool/pseuds/butmicoooool
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>A week ago you said to me</i>
  <br/>
  <i>"Do you believe I'll never be too far"</i>
  <br/>
  <i>If you're lost, just look for me</i>
  <br/>
  <i>You'll find me in the region of the summer stars</i>
  <br/>
  <i>The fact that we can sit right here and say goodbye</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Means we've already won</i>
  <br/>
  <i>The necessity for apologies between you and me</i>
  <br/>
  <i>Baby, there is none</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i></i><br/><i></i><br/><i>/////////////////////////////////////////</i><br/><br/> </p><p>  <i></i><br/><i></i><br/><i>Jack is moving on, Bitty isn't.</i><br/><br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It was 2 am and all I could think was... ya know what ep. 18 needs??? MORE SADNESS. I have so much angst in me I need to get it out.
> 
> so here it is, I'll finish it tomorrow. It might or might not have a happy ending?

 

It’s the night before graduation, and Bitty has this itching under his skin that he knows won’t let him sleep. So after a while he just gives up, puts on his thickest sweater and makes his way onto the roof. The far-off sounds of partying are enough of a backdrop that Bitty doesn’t feel alone, but it’s still quiet enough that he has space to think. And boy, is he thinking.    
  
He’s thinking about how fast things change, and how hard it is to notice until it’s too late. He’s thinking about how even with all the things he’s gotten wrong, or things he wishes he’d done - he can’t bring himself to regret what’s brought him here. To Samwell, to the Haus, to this roof. Even though he is alone. But - he can hear the sounds of someone stomping up the stairs, so he’s never really alone.    
  
Bitty wiggles his toes a bit, the scratchiness of the roof bringing him back to the present.  Though the nights are getting warmer, it’s not exactly Georgia weather. Bitty toughs it until his teeth start chattering, then he sighs and climbs back into his room. He’s mentally debating whether he should get a blanket and go back out, or just give up and go back to bed. Except there’s someone on his bed.    
  
“Jack?” Bitty’s voice is a too loud contrast to the quiet that was there before. It startles both of them. Bitty has about two seconds of feeling bad about making Jack flinch, until he see’s the tear-streaks down Jack’s face and then he feels  _ worse _ .    
  
“ _ Jack, _ ” He says again, softer.    
  
Bitty realises then that he’s still sort of crouched half-inside/half-outside so he takes the few fumbled steps to sit beside Jack. He’s far enough away to maintain the illusion of personal space, but close enough in a way Bitty hopes communicates comfort and support.    
  
He says Jack’s name for the third time, not sure if it’s a question, not sure what he’d be asking if it was.    
  
Jack opens his mouth, but instead of speaking he just inhales wetly. His shoulders are almost up to his ears, and his hands twist and untwist in his lap. Looking closer, Bitty can see he’s shaking.    
  
_ Fuck it _ Bitty thinks, and wraps his arms around Jack’s shoulders. Jack somehow becomes even more tense, before blowing out his breath and relaxing in Bitty’s embrace. Bitty’s arms are kind of at an awkward angle, stretched across the impossibly-broad shoulders. He’s awake enough to know that what he’s about to do is gonna end well for him, but just sleep deprived enough not to care - he throws his leg over so he’s sort of hovering over Jack’s lap. Not quite straddling him (because - no.  _ This is about Jack’s feelings. _ Bitty tells himself.) but his knees are on either side of Jack’s thighs and his hands move to Jack’s shoulders, pushing him back just enough to make eye contact.    
  
He feels Jack crying before he sees or hears it - a sudden jerk of his shoulder’s under Bitty’s palms. Then the heaving chest, before the quiet but unmissable sound of a sob. Jack tries to fight it for about five seconds, but when Bitty’s face goes from worried to heartbreakingly sad, Jack gives up any and all pretense of being strong, and just presses his face to Bitty’s chest. He cries.    
  
  
Jack surprises himself with how loud he is, despite the sobs being muffled in Bitty’s chest, they sound loudly in the stillness of the room, ring loudly in his ears. Maybe that’s just him though. He feels Bitty’s hands, so soft and gently brushing through his hair, or patting him on the back. He doesn’t remember moving his arms, but his palms are flat against Bitty’s back. He tries not to dig his fingers in, but once the thought is in his head he can’t get it out, so he does. Gripping Bitty like that brings them somehow closer together, and Jack can feel all of Bitty’s torso pressed against him.    
  
He thinks, then, about what this would be like if he wasn’t crying, if he wasn’t such a mess, if he wasn’t such a disappointment. He wants to apologize to Bitty, to the team, to his dad. He doesn’t want everything to get to him like it does, he doesn’t want to graduate. He doesn’t want to leave Bitty. But he doesn’t know how to have want he wants, he doesn’t deserve what he wants. He’s sorry. He’s so, so, sorry.    
  
“Hey, hey, hey, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Bitty’s hands are a solid presence on the top of Jack’s head. But he pulls back to look at Bitty, and they fall back down to his shoulders.    
  
“What?” Jack hates how hoarse his voice is.    
  
“You were talking in French, but I think I heard you say  _ désolé _ a couple times, and I have just enough basic French to think I know what that means. Also you’re Canadian. So, really, it wasn’t that hard to guess that you were-”   
  
“Bitty.”   
  
“I’m rambling, I know, I’m sorry! haha! Now I’m the one apologising, unless I got your French wrong. In that case, I’m still sorr-”   
  
“Bitty.” Jack digs his fingers in to Bitty’s back to make his point. “Please.”    
  
He doesn’t know what he’s asking for, but Bitty nods like he understands.    
  
“Ok, I’ll… um, go.” Apparently Bitty doesn’t understand at all. Jack makes a weird growl/grunt noise in the back of his throat when Bitty tries to move away. Luckily, Jack’s got himself locked on pretty tight and Bitty doesn’t get very far before Jack is pulling him back and pressing his face to Bitty’s chest again.    
  
  
“Stay, please.” He says it loud enough for Bitty to hear, but then, quieter: “Let me stay. Please.” 

He’s not sure if Bitty hears that part. 

 

He doesn’t want to know.    
  
  
  
Eventually, Bitty’s legs start to tremble with the effort of keeping himself up.    
“Lie down, Jack.” He says as gently as he can, maneuvering Jack with the softest of touches. Jack lies down, but he looks so stiff, and his face is red from crying. Bitty grabs the bottle of water of his nightstand. He tugs at Jack’s should until Jack gets the idea and sits up.    
  
“Have some water,” Bitt doesn’t really give him a choice, he pick’s up Jack’s arm by the wrist and presses the bottle to his palm. Bitty’s fingers trace down the back of Jack’s hand and along his arm. Bitty doesn’t mean to be so tactile, really, he’s just trying to comfort. Jack. He’s comforting Jack. (But he won’t deny that maybe he needs a little comfort himself.)    
  
“Thanks, Bitty.” Jack hands him back an empty bottle, and the  _ thunk _ of it echoes round the room when Bitty puts it back on the nightstand. (He’ll recycle it later.) 

 

“Anytime, Jack.”    
  
“I’m- “   
  
“Don’t say it.”   
  
“- sorry” Jack finishes anyway. “But thank you… for being here. And you.”    
  
“And me? “   
  
“Being you.”    
  
“Being… what?”   
  
“For being you?” Jack’s eyebrows draw together, he turns to look at Bitty. “Thank you.” He puts as much captainly gravitas into is as he can. “For being you.”    
  
“Oh!” Bitty chuckles awkwardly. “Thats- I- um. Thank you, Jack. For, for trusting me.”   
  
“Did you get that line from Shitty?”    
  
“Don’t chirp me when we’re having a moment!” He smacks Jack’s shoulder, but the brightness of Bitty’s grin gives away how much Jack’s answering smirk means to him.    
  
“We’re having a moment?”    
  
“Yes, Jack. Despite your current efforts to derail the emotion of our current conversation, we are having a “moment””    
  
“The air quotes are a necessity, of course.”    
  
“Jack! De-railing!” But they’re both giggling, heads bent towards one another.    
  
“Sorry Bitty, how unusual of me to be scared of talking about emotions.” Bitty can’t tell if Jack rolls his eyes because he’s suddenly too busy staring at his hands.    
  
“Are you scared?”    
  
Neither of them realised how relaxed Jack had become until he tenses up again.    
  
“I’m-” he starts, but Bitty cuts him off.    
  
“Because, I know. You’re graduating tomorrow, and I assume that’s why you’re scared, and you have so much on you plate, I can’t even- I mean, you know. I- I just- I’m- I-” Bitty’s stutters turn to unexpected sobs, and this time it Jack reaching his shoulders around Bitty, pulling him in.    
  
“Yeah, yeah, it is.” Jack mumbles into Bitty’s hair. “I’m just-” He stops.    
  
Bitty has stopped crying, but he lets Jack hold him. Lets Jack rock them back and forth so subconsciously that neither of them notice.    
  
The moments stretch out between them.    
At some point, they both lie back enough to be lying on the bed, Bitty curled into Jack’s chest, legs tangling together beneath the sheets.    
  
Just as Bitty is about to drift into sleep Jack says: “I’m just afraid to lose you”    
  
Bitty is still trying to think of something to say when he falls asleep.    
  
  
  
/////////////////////////////////////////

 

  
Bitty’s heart breaks a little when he wakes up alone the next morning. But he’s quickly soothed when he hears his door open and shutting quietly again by whoever just walked in. He keeps up the pretense of sleep as the person walks up to the bed and places their hand on Bitty’s shoulder and -    
  
“BITTY! You need to get dressed we’re leaving in like - five minutes ago.”    
  
“Yeah, ok, Lardo. I’ll be down in a minute.” Bitty just prays that she ignores (or doesn’t notice) how sad his voice is, how close he is to crying.    
  
“Bitty. Dude. What.”  Now she’s sitting down on the bed and rubbing his arm.    
  
“I don’t even know.” He smushes his face into his pillow. Counts to ten.    
  
Lardo is quiet when he finally sits up and rubs his eyes. He smiles.    
  
“I need to get ready, we have some seniors to send off.”    
  
Lardo’s answering smile is just as sad.    
  
  
  
  
  
  
Bitty’s not sure how he manages it, but he gets through all the ceremonies and the selfies and the everything without crying. Even seeing Jack, meeting his eyes, isn’t as stabbingly painful as he thought it would be. Sure, yeah, he wants to throw himself on the ground and Jack’s feet and weep, but that’s just like a normal response to Jack Zimmermann so Bitty shrugs it off. Jack gives him a nod, and what Bitty interprets as some kind of  _ significant  _ look when Jack says. “Papa, you remember Bittle.”    
  
“Of course!” Bab Bob’s voice is surprisingly warm.    
  
“It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Zimmermann! I-” Bitty’s oncoming rant is completely forgotten in the wake of  _ Bad Bob hugging him.  _ His arms squeeze Bitty almost too tight, and for just long enough for Jack’s dad to whisper “Thank you, Eric” in Bitty’s ear.    
  
“I, um-” Bitty is a little lost for words when Jack’s dad. (Mr. Zimmermann? Bad Bob? Bitty’s not really sure where they are name-wise right now.) 

 

He catches a glimpse of Jack’s equally bewildered expression just before Alicia Zimmermann is taking Bad Bob’s place.    
  
“Eric! It is so wonderful to meet you!” He voice is so sincere and so- Bitty’s heart clenches thinking about his own Mama and how much he misses her. But Jack comes in with the assist, pulling his mom away.    
  
“ _ Maman.”  _ He says.    
  
“Oh, Jack, shush. Let me talk to Eric!”    
  
“We need to go,  _ maman, _ ”    
  
She just rolls her eyes at him, but laughs and lets Bitty go. “Alright, alright. Say your goodbyes and then we’ll go.”    
  
She walks over to the group of other allums with Jack’s dad and then its just Jack and Bitty. Well, there’s still the thousands of students having their own goodbyes around them. But, in this ten square foot space they’re alone.     
  
  
“Bitty-” Jack says. And stops.    
  
“Jack?” Bitty prompts, unhelpfully. Jack just sighs and pulls him into a hug. It’s too tight and not tight enough.    
  
  
“Jack, I want you to know.” Bitty lifts his head enough to look into Jack’s eyes. “That you are my best friend, and even though you’re going off to show the world how amazing you are, you will always be my friend. I don’t care how famous you get, or how many Stanley Cups you win, you’re not getting rid of me and I will still show up randomly in your kitchen to bake you pies and other maple flavoured things not in your diet plan.”   
  
Jack’s smile is the biggest Bitty thinks he’s ever seen it, but his eyes are wet. (Bitty’s eyes are too)    
  
“Bitty. I-” the sound of whatever he was gonna say gets stuck in his throat. “You’re my best friend too.” Jack says in a whisper, like its a secret and they’re not still hugging in broad daylight.    
  
“I have to go,” Jack adds, dropping his arms and taking a step back. “I’ll text you, ok?”   
  
“Ok” Bitty says, and watches Jack walk away.    
  
  


  
  


He doesn’t start crying until he’s back at the Haus. Thankfully, it's empty and no one can hear him singing along sadly to Past Lives by Ke$ha as he stumbles up the stairs. He goes to his room, strips his sheets and does his best not to think about last night. Would he have changed anything? It wouldn’t have been the right time to go making a fool of himself and admitting he caught feelings. But Bitty’s stupid heart apparently didn’t get the message.    
  
He’s stuffing his sheets into his suitcase when  _ Easier to Lie  _ comes up on shuffle. He lets himself be dramatic when the chorus comes on.    
  
_ And who am I  _ __  
_ To be the one you need?  _   
  
He belts out those vowels. Channelling all his sadness and all the ‘what if’s floating around in his head into the song. It's a nice reprise from crying anyway.    
  
It doesn’t take long for Bitty to finish packing up, but he’s not quite ready to head downstairs yet. Looking across the hall at Jack’s old room, he sees piles of Chowder’s clothes just thrown on the desk. Bitty sighs with something like a smile on his face.    
  
“My poor, domestically challenged frog.” He rolls his eyes and goes over to start sorting and folding the pile.    
  
Bitty’s calmed down now, the tears have dried on his face and he’s getting into the flow of a chore done right. But then Halo comes on.  __ Halo. And suddenly Bitty can’t stop thinking about how this was Jack’s room but it’s never gonna be Jack’s room again, and Jack won’t ever be across the hall from him. And he never told Jack how he felt, even if Bitty knows it’s unrequited, at least it wouldn’t have to be a secret, but he’s gonna have to carry that with him until he gets over it. If he gets over it.    
  
And he’s crying again, but still singing along. And he’s thinking. What if Jack just swooped in and kissed him. That would just solve, well not everything, because nothing can stop Jack from graduating. Nothing can stop Jack from moving on, from starting his life. His life without Bitty. Bitty’s not folding anymore, just clutching one of Chowder’s shirts to his face and crying. And crying and crying and crying.    
  
  


 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its 3 am, but if I don't post it now I'll chicken out - so I'll correct any typos ASAP.

  
The worst part of summer is how normal it is.   
  
  
Jack texts like he always does, like he’s still captain. A daily remix of: _eat more protein /  rest up / relax now, so you can bring your best to next season._ __  
__  
  
Bitty spends the first two weeks typing out, then deleting (then typing out again, then deleting again), different confessions to Jack. But he stops each time reminding himself _why_ he doesn’t go and vomit his feelings everywhere. This isn’t Bitty’s first rodeo, he’s had crushes on straight guys before. He’s had crushes on close friends before. He knows that it just takes time and some pie to get over this- but-  
  
But this is Jack.   
  
And the whole cycle just restarts again.   
  
  
The second half of June is spent firmly in the denial stage. Bitty turns off all notifications (except Twitter) and throws himself into baking, into grocery shopping with his mom, he paints the fence with his dad, he meets up with some of the people he used to figure skate with, he throws himself into socializing with the people he spends the rest of the year hiding from. It works, it’s fine. He checks his phone and messages the group chat just enough that the guys aren’t hounding him for ignoring them. It works, it’s fine.   
  
  
But then one day, late June, Bitty gets a snapchat of the sunset coming up over an ice rink.   
  
_‘Shame you’re not here, eh_ ’ reads the caption. And his stomach just like, falls out his ass.   
  
Another snap, more focused on the ice this time. _‘I miss checking you at 4 am’_   
  
  
Bitty in his stomach-out-his-ass state just sees the “i miss you” part of that and starts thinking recklessly. Maybe if his Nicki Minaji playlist wasn’t blasting he’d have less courage, but as it is, Bitty just tries to stop his hands from shaking as he takes a picture of the tree outside his window.   
  
_‘You should visit’_   
  
And then because if he’s gonna do this he’s gonna do this right, he opens up his messenger chat with Jack and types. ‘Seriously, you should come visit. If you have anytime off.’   
  
  
It only takes Jack two minutes to reply, but two minutes staring at those three dots is a small eternity.   
  
_I have the weekend after Canada Day off. I could come down then?_  
  
Bitty’s reply would be an instantaneous YES but he’s ashamed to admit he doesn’t know when Canada day is.   
  
  
**_Jack, that’s literally the fourth of July._** __  
_  
___Oh, are you busy?

__  
**_There’s always room at the Bittle house for you!!!! Those words are straight from Mama Bittle herself :)_ ** ****__  
__  
_ Ok. I’ll book my ticket now. _ __  
__  
**_Fair warning - you’ll probably be subjected to an unfortunate amount of Bittle family, because there’s usually a BBQ and a whole bunch of stuff. But it mostly involves food, and everyone here is more into football than hockey so you shouldn’t have any trouble or anything!!!!_ **   
  


_ Its much harder to stop your rants over text message _ __  
__  
**_:(_ ** ****__  
__  
_ ‘My ticket is booked. Forwarding you the details now.’  _ __  
_  
_ ****_:D_

  
  
  


****  
The fourth is the Saturday, but Jack arrives the Friday evening. Mama Bittle is still prepping for tomorrow in the kitchen so it’s not too difficult for Bitty to pick Jack up from the station alone. Seeing Jack for the first time in a month is - it’s nothing. He looks at Bitty the way he always does, Bitty hugs him a little tighter but that can be excused, it’s easy between them. Even with his heart doing weird somersaults in his chest, Bitty has to remind himself that nothing happened between the two of them. They’re friends. He needs to just accept that and move on.    
  
“It’s good to see you, Bittle.”    
  
“It’s good to see you too, Jack.”    
  
It is, it really, really is.    
  
  
Until it isn’t.   
  
  
Ok, so it’s late Saturday even and Bitty had to endure a whole day of Jack getting along with his mom, helping her clean and cutting vegetables, Jack getting along with his  _ dad _ and grunting about football in a way Bitty just can’t, even though he knows everything about it. He had to endure a whole day of Jack smiling, complaining about the weather, offering to take selfies, saying ‘eh’, like, all the damn time.    
  
And Bitty loved it, he really lost himself in it. And then the fireworks started and Bitty might be a little drunk and it all just got to him a bit. And he’s mostly beating himself up for still feeling like this. He’s an idiot who wants things he can’t have. 

 

Jack is sitting on the grass beside him, leaning back to look at the fireworks exploding above them. Bitty isn’t looking at him directly, at him, instead he’s staring into his half empty cup. The sounds of the party wash over him. They haven’t spoken in a while, because while Bitty isn’t at the blowing chunks level of drunkenness yet, he’s pretty close to the ‘saying things he shouldn’t’ level. 

 

The whole reason behind not confessing his crush was so he wouldn’t ruin his friendship. But here he his trying not to cry into his beer, barely able to look at his best friend. He’s a terrible friend. Drags Jack to the other side of North America and won’t even look at him. So he looks at him.   
  
Except, Jack ins’t looking up at the fireworks, he’s looking right at Bitty. And he’s smiling, the softest smile Bitty’s probably ever seen on him. But Bitty’s 98% sure he’s projecting so he just looks back down at his beer.   
  
“Bitty, what’s wrong?” Jack has to shout a little to be heard over the fireworks, but no one else is close enough to hear. So no one else hears Bitty pathetic little hiccup sobs when Jack rubs at his back.   
  
“Do you want to go back to the house?”   
  
Bitty just nods, eyes scrunched shut as if that’ll hide the fact he’s crying.   
  
They don’t talk on the five minute walk back, but Jack keeps his hand on Bitty’s back the whole way.   
  
Bitty breaks away the second they get in the door, he goes and locks himself in the bathroom under the pretense of ‘freshening up.’ At least he knows he can blame everything on the alcohol in the morning.   
  
Bitty brushes his teeth, splashes water on his face, gives himself a good long look in the mirror. Calmer now, he goes to his room.   
  
Jack’s leaning against the headboard reading a book. It’s something in French, about this girl in the war, it actually sounded pretty interesting when Jack explained it earlier, but Bitty isn’t thinking about that right now, he’s mostly focused on how Jack is shirtless, and already under the thin covers.  
  
“I hope you don’t mind the company” Jack says, easily.   
  
Bitty just shrugs. It wouldn’t be the first time they shared a bed.  
  
He’s not sure what to do once he gets in under the blanket, and his hesitance must show because Jack takes over and rearranges them so that Bitty is the little spoon, Jack’s arm snug over his waist.   
Bitty’s got his eyes screwed shut again, willing his heart to calm down. Ransom and Holster are like this all the time, hell, him and Shitty have had their fair share of couch cuddles, this is just a thing that bros do. Comfort their crying bros, comfort their crying gay bros who harbor secret feelings that aren’t bro-like at all. Bitty is a bad bro.   
  
“Did you just say you were a bad bro?” Jack’s voice is muffled by Bitty’s hair, but still clear enough to make out the laugh   
  
“I, um. Must still be a little drunk.”   
  
Jack just hums, and then, just when Bitty thinks Jack has fallen asleep.   
  
“You’re not.”   
  
“I’m not what?”  
  
“You’re not a bad bro, Bitty.”   
  
Bitty laughs, but it comes out more like a sob.   
  
“You need to tell me what’s wrong.”   
  
“I’m sorry, Jack, but I- I really can’t”  
  
“If you don’t tell me I can’t fix it.”   
  
That has Bitty looking over his shoulder. The worry and hurt on Jack’s face make him turn around completely so he’s facing Jack. Bitty tries really hard to not think about how this is exactly how they were the night before graduation.   
  
“I’m afraid this is something you really can’t fix.”   
  
Jack’s frown gets deeper.   
  
“Is this-” He takes a deep breath, and Bitty feels Jack’s exhale against his lips. “Is this about you thinking you’re not a… a good, um, bro?”   
  
“Kinda….” It’s in the same ballpark.   
  
“Because Bitty, I-” Another breath, another exhale. “I haven’t really, been, um. Good. A Good. Bro. I’ve been. There’s. Things.”   
  
What feels like a full minute of silence passes.   
  
“Things?” Bitty prompts.   
  
“Oh yeah, sorry.”   
  
“It’s ok, take your time.” Bitty has no idea where this is going, but he can tell Jack is trying to say something Important. So he pushes out all his own silly feelings and concentrates on Jack. Which isn’t very hard considering he’s literally right up in his face right now.   
  
“I’m, if- I was really sad to leave Samwell.”   
  
Bitty knows he’s gonna end up crying at whatever Jack is gonna tell him, but he tries to put off the tears for as long as possible.   
  
“I was sad because I knew I’d miss the team, I’d miss the Haus, even though I’m going to the NHL, I’m- this is my dream. I should be- happier.” Jack sighs. “But I’m not because I know I can do better.”   
  
“Better than the NHL? Jack, you’re an amaz-”  
  
“No, not hockey.”   
  
“Not hockey? Wow, I never thought I’d see the day-”   
  
“I meant, I could be better with you.”   
  
“With me?”  
  
“With you.” Jack say it so matter-of-factly, like he’s making perfect sense. He’s literally making the opposite of sense right now.   
  
“Jack, I have no idea what you mean.”   
  
“Uh. Ok. Nevermind.”  
  
“Jack, wait wait, no don’t get up. Don’t-”   
  
He doesn't leave, but he gets up and sits on the desk chair beside the bed.    
  
“The night before graduation, I had a panic attack.” Jack doesn’t look up, so Bitty stays quiet. “It wasn’t that big of a deal, I get them every now and again. But, part of dealing with them is acknowledging what triggered them, and either… either avoiding that, or dealing with it. So I tried to deal with it, and that’s why I went to you.”   
  
Jack looks up, but when Bitty opens his mouth to speak Jack shakes his head.   
  
“Because when I thought, when I really thought about leaving Samwell, I wasn’t sad about leaving the team or the Haus, I mean, I am, but not- not as much as I am to leave you. I don’t want to leave you, but I can’t- I can’t keep pretending that you’re just a friend to me Bitty. You’re so much more.”   
  
“Jack, I-”   
  
“I was gonna say something. I was gonna say something really dumb that night, something like, run away with me, let’s just go. I’ll change my name to something not related to hockey and we’ll go get married in Toronto or somewhere. Niagara Falls.”  
  
Bitty’s just… frozen. Jack keeps talking.   
  
“And I just kept thinking about how, you know, I would. I would do it, Bitty. I would drop everything, my dad, hockey, everything, and just run away with you. Because the only thing I really want is you.”  
  
They finally make eye contact.   
  
“Jack.” Bitty says after what feels like years.  
  
“Bitty.”  
  
“If this is some kind of alcohol induced hallucination I need you to tell me right now.”   
  
“It’s not a dream, it’s real.”  
  
“That’s exactly what fever dream Jack would say!” Bitty’s grin lights up his whole face. “I just have one question for you.” 

  
Jack’s face goes suddenly serious. “You can ask me anything, Bitty.”   
  
“Why are you all the way over there and not over here kissing me?”   
  
“I told you if tell me the problem I can fix it.” Jack smirks, and makes his way back over to Bitty. “And this is a problem I can definitely solve.”    
  
  
  
  
When Bitty wakes up the next morning, sunlight filtering through the curtains, he’s got a possessive arm thrown over his waist, and a certain French-Canadian NHL hockey player snoring into his ear.    
  
And, yeah, they probably have a bunch of shit they need to talk about, and lord knows Bitty’s still got issues coming out his ear, but at least for now he’s not alone.    
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written anything in so long, so it's kinda scary getting back into it. I really appreciate any Kudos/Comments/Bookmarks!!! (especially comments tho... just saying....) Thank you for reading <3

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Walking in the Wind - One Direction because im 1D trash.


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